


hitch a ride on a dream

by hollywdliz



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Not Beta Read, Safehouses, Sharing a Bed, Sort Of, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 09:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21407746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollywdliz/pseuds/hollywdliz
Summary: Steve and Tony are trying to take it slow, but when they check into a hotel on a mission, it turns out there's been a mix-up. Yep, this is a sharing-a-bed story ... or is it? (It is! But it isn't. But it is!)
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	hitch a ride on a dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written and published in a looooong time. Any mistakes are entirely my own fault. I wrote this because I wanted to try the "sharing a bed" trope for NaNoWriMo, but it turned into something slightly unexpected, and I kinda liked how it turned out. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> The setting is vaguely MCU, but the timeline is vague, so feel free to hand-wave it into the universe of your choice. If it IS MCU, Tony and Pepper are not together, so there's no infidelity. It's technically an established relationship, but a very new one. Please assume they've got access to the sort of high-tech disguises we've seen on "Agents of SHIELD."
> 
> Title taken from "Up" from the "Sing Street" soundtrack.

“Oh, boy.” Tony stares at the … elephant in the room, as it were. “I think there might have been a mix-up.”

“For the last time, I don’t care if it’s ‘only’ a standard room. We do _not_ need the ultra super deluxe … oh.” Steve, carrying their luggage (why keep those delicious muscles around if you’re not going to make use of them?), stops short in the doorway, having nearly crashed into Tony. “Oh. I see.” He drops the bags with a heavy thump. “Huh.”

They stand there in silence for a long moment, staring at the bed.

Bed, singular.

OK, it’s technically at least a double, maybe even a queen, but … Tony blinks and looks again just to make sure, and yeah, there’s only the one.

Well, fuck.

Tony turns around and tries to keep the incipient panic from showing on his face. “I swear I didn’t set this up," he babbles, and dammit, he hates when he gets like this, but he can't turn it off, so he plows ahead. "I called ahead, I gave them the profiles we mocked up and the dummy account information, I don’t understand why this happened, I promise I’m not trying to push you, please don’t—”

“Hey. Shhh.” Steve kisses him gently and slides one big hand around his waist to settle at the small of his back. “It’s OK. It’s not your fault. It’s a small hotel. They ran out of rooms. We’re gonna be fine. I’m just glad we have a safe place to sleep.” He kisses Tony’s nose, a gesture that should be embarrassing but somehow manages to be adorable, because it’s Steve.

Then Steve glances at the bed again and blushes, which makes him even _more_ adorable, which, how is that even fair? “And, uh, I know I said I wanted to take it slow, and I do, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to spending the night with you.”

Oh, wow. Just like that, Tony is officially A-OK with this situation.

Apparently Steve doesn’t realize that, because he’s still talking. “I mean, it’s completely fine if _you’re_ not ready for that. We don’t have to rush things. I can sleep on the floor. I’ll be – _mmph_.”

Whatever Steve was about to say will just have to go unstated, because Tony can’t waste another second before shutting him up with a kiss.

He plans to keep it short, because the door to the hallway is still open and they’re supposed to be undercover and there’s no sense drawing attention to themselves. But what the kiss initially lacks in length, it makes up for in sheer hotness, or at least Tony does his best to make sure it does. It’s certainly true for him; when Steve’s eager tongue presses wickedly into his mouth, warm and slick and perfect, he genuinely thinks he might melt, or at least fall down. Either of those things would probably cause Steve to stop kissing him, though, so he stands his ground.

Tony’s about to reluctantly suggest that they take a break in the interests of not putting on a show when Steve reaches back with his foot and kicks the door shut. He didn’t even _look_. _Shit_, that’s hot. Tony plants a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him closer. Steve makes a delightful noise and lets himself be pulled. Those big, beautiful hands of his drift down Tony’s back and come to rest on his ass, and wow, yes, that is _spectacular_.

Tony could stand here and make out with Steve forever, but they’re supposed to meet their contact in half an hour and that definitely won’t give them enough time to take this where Tony would like it to go, so eventually he has to force himself to pull away. “We’re gonna be late if we keep this up,” he murmurs. “Not that I mind, but if we screw up this meeting, Natasha will stab us both.”

Steve chuckles. “She might stab _me_. You, she occasionally finds useful.”

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said about me.” Tony kisses him one last time before turning to open his suitcase. “Now, do we think this is a jeans-and-T-shirt-type clandestine meeting, or should I snazz it up a little?”

***

It turns out to be a surprise-treachery-and-trying-to-shoot-Tony-in-the-face-type meeting. Tony is really getting tired of those.

With their covers blown, there’s no reason to return to the hotel, so the bed, alas, goes unused. Tony will send an AI-piloted suit to get their stuff later if they really need it, but for now, they head straight for the safehouse to await extraction.

The safehouse boasts a battered sink, a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and a sofa that has seen better days. Tony eyes the latter mistrustfully as Steve locks the door, which Tony sincerely hopes is stronger than it looks. “‘Become a superhero,’ they said,” he mutters. “‘Travel the world and meet interesting people,’ they said. ‘Wear a sexy costume,’ they said.” He looks down at his clothes, much the worse for wear after they’d been chased through every dirty alleyway in the city. “I feel misled.”

“I think your costume is plenty sexy,” Steve says, and flops down on the dingy sofa with a sigh. “We should be safe for a few hours. C’mere.”

“There’s no way we’re both going to fit on that thing.”

“You’re not thinking creatively.” Steve flails a hand out in Tony’s general direction; his eyes are already closed, though Tony’s sure he’s ready to snap back into action at a moment’s notice. It’s been that kind of day.

Tony lets himself be caught and tugged toward the sofa. When his knees bump against Steve’s side, Steve reaches up and pulls Tony down on top of him. They both smell like the worst parts of the city, plus sweat and fear and adrenaline, but Steve just buries his nose in Tony’s neck and inhales deeply. “Ahhhh, that’s better. See? Plenty of room.” His arms encircle Tony, strong and warm and solid, and Tony can’t help but relax in his embrace.

“When I thought about sharing a horizontal surface with you, this was not exactly what I had in mind,” Tony murmurs, but there’s no heat in it.

“We’ll just have to make up for it next time. Now shhh.” Steve’s breathing has already gone slow and deep. He presses his lips gently to Tony’s neck, heedless of the grime. “Might as well get some rest while we wait.”

Steve must be really, truly sure they’ve lost their pursuers, because if he had even a smidgen of doubt, he’d be pacing the floor, shield in hand. Tony closes his eyes, lulled by the even up-and-down movement of Steve’s chest against his own and the steady warmth of his body, and lets himself drift.

They’ve got a business trip in a few weeks. Tony’s going to make sure they’re booked in a king suite.


End file.
